Admired
by MostDismalFeldsparkle
Summary: Just a little thing for someone who has had a horrible week and says they need some Travis/Hoshi stories...


"Dammit!"

Hoshi's shout, and the sound of the PADD bouncing twice, then clattering to a stop on the deck next to him, caused Travis to turn abruptly. He regretted it at once, because Hoshi's outburst had drawn every pair of eyes on the midnight bridge, and her cheeks were turning red.

Malcolm, teeth clenched with the exhaustion of his tenth shift in four days, had the good sense to turn away quickly, but, to Travis's irritation, the weary gaggle of ensigns and crewman staffing the bridge continued to gawk.

Hoshi wilted even further under their dead-eyed gazes, and Travis's heart twisted in his chest.

"... excuse me I have to go..." Hoshi muttered, already all but running from the bridge.

Malcolm murmured an otherwise intelligible assent, not turning to observe her exit. Instead, he locked eyes with Travis, eyebrows raised, head slightly inclined in the direction Hoshi's flustered exit.

Travis nodded thankfully. He paused only to send a single word message to the galley. Then, he scooped up the offending PADD and dropped it on the communications console as he too left the bridge.

* * *

"Dammit!" Hoshi cried again, most of the way to her quarters, her cheeks even saltier than her exclamations.

She had forgotten to eat.

She had no desire to eat. Anything she placed in her mouth would no doubt taste only of failure and ashes. But she knew her body, and if she did not eat she would wake tomorrow with a pounding headache.

Four days they had been ensnared in this subspace sandtrap, and it was all her fault. The map they had attained from traders had proven useless when Hoshi had noticed only the senary encoding, and not the sophisticated Playfair tesseract cypher. The entire crew were now working themselves to exhaustion modifying the ship to clear the trap. She would get the map right THIS time if it killed her.

With a sigh, only just shy of her door, Hoshi spun on her heals and headed to the mess hall. It would be slim pickings in the middle of her night, that was certain. Whatever unappetising dregs, no one yet had settled for. Hoshi almost enjoyed the idea of eating the most unpleasant thing available. It seemed fitting almost, a sort of penance.

As recriminations swirled through her head, her flagging steps brought her through the door of the mess hall and face to face with the wares available.

Her breath caught. It was strange to explain later - and she would tell this story all her life - but at first she thought she was imagining it. It's very existence defied good sense. It couldn't be there. If it had been there it would have been hungrily wolfed down by somebody else. Hours ago.

But there it was.

Right in the very centre of a drab and wilted tray sat a plump, golden, raspberry muffin. Flecks of red at the surface promised tart and fresh bursts of flavour, and it wore a crown of white chocolate buttercream, adorned with a single, perfect fresh raspberry.

Hoshi blinked at it stupidly. Then, after a moment she reached for it, not entirely sure it was really there, until her weary fingers closed around its moist springy crumb.

This muffin would not taste of ash or failure, Hoshi thought, as the muffins lingering warmth carried its faint, inviting aroma to her nose. It would taste perfect. And it was somehow, miraculously, exactly what she wanted.

She carried it back toward her quarters, breathing deeply to capture as much of that heavenly smell as she could, enjoying the soothing warmth in her hands, admiring how the perfect beads of the raspberry captured the light of the corridor.

And then...

She felt it at first rather than heard it, a change in the air. Then with a few more steps her clever ears picked it out.

Music. Its tone sweet as honey, its timbre that of burbling water.

Her ears, clever as they were, had no way to know those sublime notes were coming from her quarters. But somehow her heart knew better. And sure enough, as the door of her quarters sprung open, the music burst forth into the corridor.

Travis, a guitar, and candle light.

He smiled when he saw her, and smiled a little wider as his eyes swept over the muffin in her hand.

He always smiled when he saw her. Hoshi's heart swelled.

"Where did you get candles?" she asked him, as she stepped forward, the door whispering shut behind her.

He rose from the chair to greet her, his long, busy fingers not missing a moment of their gentle rhythm. "From T'Pol."

Hoshi shook her head incredulously. "She gave you some of her candles?"

"I had certain intel she wanted," Travis smirked. "About the type of diving mask preferred by a certain Commander..."

Hoshi laughed sharply, over the music. Oh the places her mind went sometimes!

The laugh untethered her smile, and she saw how it lit her face in Travis's eyes.

"Come sit," he said, and she did.

They sat on the bed together, sharing the muffin - Hoshi tearing off morsels for Travis, placing them gently in his mouth - as the music ebbed and swelled around them, and finally died at the proper time.

"My turn!" Hoshi said snatching the guitar - he'd been teaching her - from his hands. To her surprise, something rattled inside. "Travis!" she scolded. "Have you dropped another plectrum in here?"

She tipped the guitar, her small fingers reaching between the strings. After a few manipulations something fell into her hand.

It was not a plectrum.

She held her breath as she unfurled her fingers one at a time. The gold and gemstone she revealed did beautiful things with the soft light over the surface of her palm.

"Oh," she breathed softly, feeling love surround her like April sun. "That's why you wanted candles."


End file.
